Retribution and Redemption
by vinewood and dragon heartstring
Summary: Post DMC How strange it was to take a man’s life and feel no guilt. If this had been a few weeks prior, Elizabeth Swann would have never been able to go through with her plan of retribution. But she was now a pirate and pirates hardly felt remorse...


I do not in any way, shape or form own _Pirates of the Caribbean_, Captain Jack Sparrow, Elizabeth Swann or James Norrinton; they all belong to Disney.

Cheers to AdhesivePrincess who got it right on the nose. If confused, check the author's note at the bottom.

* * *

Elizabeth Swann supposed that a cutlass or rapier would have been better.

The distance provided by these two weapons afforded her a chance to escape should her opponent overpower her.

However, neither the cutlass nor the rapier would provide her with nearly as much satisfaction as the dagger in her hand- a dagger that was currently pressed firmly against a certain admiral's throat.

* * *

She'd been welcomed back to Port Royal. Her father- now an associate of Lord Cutler Beckett, to Elizabeth's sincerest disappointment, fury and revulsion- had managed to negotiate for clemency on her behalf. Clemency she was granted. 

It was not at all surprising to see James Norrington, now an admiral thanks to his trickery, smiling as he stood on the docks. His words of welcome were syrupy sweet and all too counterfeit, and Elizabeth resisted the urge to spit in his face.

Her father had immediately whisked her away. At home, Elizabeth found a hot meal, warm bath, clean wardrobe and a fastidious corset.

The maids had been ordered to throw out the sailor's clothes Elizabeth had arrived in; the governor's daughter had stopped them from complying with their duties- she'd need the vestments for later.

There was full moon that night.

Elizabeth changed into boots, trousers, shirt and vest. A cutlass rested in his scabbard against her thigh as Elizabeth climbed down her balcony with the aid of her bed sheets.

She walked quickly and with purpose; she had something to collect.

The trek to _Admiral_ (the mere thought of the title made her want to vomit) Norrington's home was short and calculated.

She'd snuck inside through an open bay window. The soft orange glow of candles let her know that the admiral was not in bed but rather in his library.

Her feet were silent as she pushed open the library doors and crossed the threshold.

James Norrington was seated in an armchair facing the fire, his back towards the doors, an open book and decanter of brandy on the small side table beside him.

The man had not known of her presence until the cold steel of the blade rested surely and tightly against his jugular.

"Do you know why pirates carry three types of weapons, Mr. Norrington?" came the breezy, husky voice from behind.

The admiral closed his eyes and let the sound of Elizabeth Swann's sweet voice overtake him.

"Miss Swann. To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?"

"The pistol is used for common opponents. Lowly beasts that warrant quick and impersonal disposal. One should find it insulting to be shot dead by a pirate. A sword is used when a pirate's opponent- be it another pirate or a despicable naval officer such as yourself- merits at the very least an ounce of respect. To die by the sword is an honor."

So far, Elizabeth had kept her voice even and neutral, but as she leaned in even closer, Elizabeth could not keep the rage out of her voice. The dagger dug into Norrington's flesh, blood trickling down his skin.

"Have you any idea what the dagger is used for, Mr. Norrington? It is reserved for only the most special of circumstances. The dagger, you see, is a weapon of revenge. It not used blindly in rage but rather in a calculated settling of scores. I lost something because of you, Mr. Norrington. I lost some_one_. I don't know if I can ever get him back. You are going to tell me where I might find Davy Jones' heart. You will tell the truth and you will do so because you owe me the truth. I gave you truth aboard the Dauntless. I gave you truth on the fort. You will repay the favor."

"That heart secures my title and position. I'd be a fool to let you know where it located. I'd be a dead man, Elizabeth."

She dug the blade deeper still.

"_Miss Swann_," she spat at him with disgust. "You are a dead man regardless of what you say, Mr. Norrington. You could give me a lie; send me off to my demise at the hands of Beckett or a hangman's noose. You could give me the truth; a last act of redemption that will send me off on my way to find the man I lost. Either way, your maid will find your corpse in this chair tomorrow morning. There will be no haggling for your life."

"I assume you've been planning this ever since the death of this _someone_. A calculated settling of scores." The admiral said, his hands still wrapped around the glass of brandy in his lap.

"Yes."

James Norrington let a smile graze his face and with his eyes still blissfully closed, he tried to imagine how Elizabeth Swann looked standing behind him with a blade pressed against his throat.

"Well, then, let me confess to you that I've been waiting for this moment ever since I took Jones' heart. I fully expected it to be Sparrow instead of you. He is a selfish blighter who would not doubt sail to World's End to save his own skin."

"_Captain_ Jack Sparrow is a far better man than you will ever be. And he is not sailing to World's End to save himself. _I_ am sailing to World's End to save him. Where is the heart, Mr. Norrington? I shall not ask you again."

"Beckett keeps a small, simple willow box on his office mantle. There is no lock."

James Norrington was shocked to find that Elizabeth Swann eased the pressure on the dagger so the blade merely rested on his skin.

He knew then that Elizabeth lied. She had not lost one man; she'd lost two. Jack Sparrow _and_ Will Turner. However, the mere fact that she was promising him death in the name of the fallen rogue pirate meant that she had already chosen between them and Sparrow had won.

"You know what I find most curious, Miss Swann? The box- the willow box- has an etching of a sparrow and a rising sun."

The flick of Elizabeth Swann's wrist was quick and precise and Admiral Norrington felt nothing as the blade tore his jugular. His lack of resistance sent his body into a lull and his life left him as slowly as if he were immersing himself into a warm bath on a cold night.

Elizabeth watched him for a moment before sheathing the dagger.

She felt no remorse.

How strange it was to take a man's life and feel no guilt. If this had been a few weeks prior, Elizabeth Swann would have never been able to go through with her plan of retribution. But she was now a pirate and pirates hardly felt remorse at the death of an enemy.

Elizabeth Margaret Swann, only child born to the honorable Weatherby Swann, was a true lady through and through. As a child, her tutors had instilled in her the best of manners, the womanly arts: painting, the modern languages, the careful art of conversation. She was to be married to a respectable gentleman, someone her father approved and had chosen. As a lady, an obedient daughter and a good Christian woman, she would do as her father asked and- when wed- as her husband asked.

Nevertheless, there had been one flaw in this planning of the lovely Ms. Swann's life: the girl had been gifted with a streak of independence that could not be controlled. It was this trait that led a twelve-year-old girl to dream only of pirates as she crossed the brave Atlantic on her way from England to Jamaica. Her independence was what let her forget about her father's plan to marry her off to James Norrington and proclaim her interest in Will Turner, a poor blacksmith. It was this wild streak that led her onto the Black Pearl where a handsome, mysterious pirate slowly seduced her with words of freedom.

That independence that Elizabeth Swann so cherished was what bound her to said pirate; it was the reason she could not now nor ever let go of Captain Jack Sparrow.

Elizabeth Margaret Swann was a lady bound to obey.

Lizzie the Pirate was under no such obligations.

When Jack had spoken the word "_pirate_" he'd changed her life forever.

With that pronouncement Jack had absolved her of any betrayal and welcomed her into a fold in which few women ever partook; the utterance of that single two-syllable word had been her baptism into a life of piracy- a life of _freedom_.

With that one word, Jack Sparrow had pilfered Elizabeth Swann's heart and taken it with him to the bottom of the Caribbean Sea.

Her exit was as secret as her entrance. She'd encountered no one in the streets as she hurried to the docks. A lonely longboat waited for her return.

Elizabeth kept her eyes closed as she rowed into the open water. She didn't need to see to find the ship. The _Sparrow_ called out to her, beckoned softly with a promise of safety.

It was Gibbs who lowered a rope for her to climb and it was Will who led her past Barbossa's captain's quarters to her own.

"Did you find it?"

His voice sounded tired yet curious.

Elizabeth walked to the desk where a jar of dirt waited.

"I did."

She reached into her knapsack and her fingers brushed against the cool surface of a small willow box.

She smiled.

Norrington had not lied. Maybe he'd achieved redemption after all.

* * *

A warm, gooey, homebaked cookie to those who can figue out why I gave Elizabeth _this_ middle name versus other more popular, common and flowery names like Anna and Marie. 


End file.
